


Fell On Black Days

by axumun



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:37:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axumun/pseuds/axumun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He came so close, so fucking close to taking you from me, and that's what I think of every morning, every night, and it's not something I can just write off. I can't."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fell On Black Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgylePirateWD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/gifts).



> For this prompt: _In order to save his and Sauli's (or an OMC boyfriend, if you must) life during some kind of violent attack (beating, mugging, etc.(no non-con/attempted non-con, tho, plz)), Adam has to kill their attacker. He has no other choice, and afterward, everyone knows that he had no other choice (the media practically calls Adam a hero, not realizing/caring how the whole thing's affecting him). How does Adam cope with taking a life, and how does the couple handle the aftermath?_
> 
> I hope I did that idea some justice.

His own breathing echoes through his skull, his hands tremble, his forehead breaks with sweat. His eyes are wide, scared, filled with some emotion that has no name. The sinking California sun seems to be replaced with ice as Adam lifts his head. He's as dead as the man before him. Dead as the man who tried to take his love away.

It only takes one instant for that train of thought to break, one little word spoken by one little voice, as scared as his own must be. "Adam."

The name is but a whisper, not a question or exclaimation, but rather a confirmation. With mustered control, Sauli sinks to his knees beside Adam. Oh, how he wants to touch, to comfort, to calm the storm raging in Adam's head. But he knows he can't. Not now.

Adam only registers the pound and ring of Sauli's cell phone keypad, blending with his breathing and hardly anything else. Sauli's talking now, but not to him, giving someone their location and telling them what had just happened.

What _had_ just happened?

In a flash of realization, Adam practically tosses the gun, hating how cold it is, how hard and merciless. He hates that he had to use it.

He remembers the struggle, the chase, prying the weapon from the man's fingers, fingers that are now very cold and very dead.

Adam wonders, then, if the gun had been pointed at _him_ , would he have done anything but stand there and watch?

Tears come, but he doesn't notice. He doesn't speak. He can't. He's forgotten how.

*

The case is ruled as self defense, which is a weight off of Adam's shoulders to say the least.

He breaks character and reads an article that's been written about the case, one that doesn't deal with the politics of it, but just a few brief facts. That's all he can take right now. 

It practically immortalizes him, that article _. He's a hero! He's selfless! He's brave!_

No one understands. No one knows the half of what that fateful moment was really about. No one understands that firing that gun wasn't about being brave or heroic. It was about keeping what was precious to him alive.

All Sauli seems to want to do is talk about it. Talk, talk, talk. He's tried reassurances and pretty smiles and poetic words. It doesn't help Adam a bit.

*

It's funny how a mere ten seconds can change your outlook on life forever.

Adam hadn't known the man. He wouldn't want to. What kind of coward would try to mug two men on the street at dusk to feed his own misery, his own wallet? How could he have breathed the same air as that man?

Why didn't that man fight back?

For the record, maybe he did. Maybe he'd been fighting like Hell in those few seconds before Adam's finger found that trigger, and Adam just hadn't noticed. Maybe he'd just stood there, dumbfounded, until it was too late.

Everything floods back to him in that instant. The bullet, the bullet he hadn't wanted to see, the very reason he'd closed his eyes when the shot was fired. The gun, the first gun Adam had ever handled, let alone shot. A pistol. A silver pistol that was meant to take their lives.

He remembers blood, the blood of the other man, and he closes his eyes, needing to rid himself of the memory. It makes his head flood with pain, makes him ache right down to his soul.

Once again, Adam doesn't really notice the tears.

Sauli's there in an instant, not hesitating to hold him this time, throwing his arms around Adam, rocking him back and forth as they sit on Adam's couch. Adam tries - tries _so hard_ \- to hold back his cries, his sobs, his shudders. Sauli breathes in, murmuring, "Let go, c'mon, Adam, let go."

Adam's body goes rigid.

"It's okay," Sauli says. "It's okay, it's okay, I've got you."

After a few moments, Adam breaks. His body falls against Sauli's, trembling with words that weigh him down, an entire rant bouncing off the walls of his mind. Sauli lay on his back on the couch with Adam draped over him, his head against Sauli's shoulder. Adam moans and rambles and whimpers, his tears staining Sauli's T-shirt.

"I can't lose you, can't ever lose you," Adam says, his voice shaky, throat dry and throbbing.

Sauli massages the back of Adam's head, murmuring little endearments to him until his breathing evens out. He makes sure Adam is asleep before drifting off himself.

*

For Adam, sleep is evasive.

He'll usually catch a couple of good hours, briefly wake up, then sleep again, rinse and repeat. Now, that routine has been switched. He'll lie awake for hours before his eyes close and his mind slows down enough for Adam to consider the state sleep, and that lasts for a good half-hour or so before he snaps into awakening again, harsh as the crack of a whip.

Sometimes, he wakes up because his sleep is plagued by dreams. Like tonight.

He'll wake up in a cold sweat, hands seeking Sauli's familiar warmth, needing to know that he's still _here_ , still around. Alive.

There are nights when these dreams aren't really about the shooting, but rather the aftermath of what could have been. He might imagine waking up alone in a bed much too big and cold for one person, imagine that ache in his heart from watching love slip through his fingers in a way he has yet to know. These dreams are easy to ignore, because all he has to do is wake up and realize Sauli is still here and that _it didn't happen_.

The flashbacks that pose as dreams, though, are harder to watch, and even harder to think about, because they _did_ happen. There's no pretending it didn't. It's all over the news, plastered on every television set, computer, newspaper, and magazine across the nation. It's evident in his album sales, which have once again peaked after cooling off from a staggering sum of sales in its first few weeks. Even if Adam could ignore all of this (which is hard, since he still has promoting to do, and that means interveiws, so guess what the theme of those would be?) the worst of it all is in his head.

Fans have been supportive (well, the "real" ones, anyway, not the so-so ones who were scared away by the controversy of the story). There's really nothing they can do, Adam knows; no way they can tame the beast in his head. But that doesn't stop them from showering him with love, and even advice. Said advice doesn't help much, but Adam appreciates it all.

*

"You did what you had to do."

It's what Adam believed in the beginning. It's what everyone told him. Yet, now, as Sauli says it to him, he realizes something.

"No, I didn't."

He says it mindlessly, and only after a few moments does he realize how that sounds, and why Sauli looks so bewildered.

" _What_?"

Adam bites his lip. "No, I didn't mean...I just think...Could there have been some other way?"

At that, Sauli wants to shout, wants to stomp and explain to Adam, right to his face, _No! There was no other way! What else could you have done, offered him tea and cookies or something? You did all you could!_

He won't do it, though. He knows Adam can't handle yelling and fighting right now. He's already fighting a Hell of a battle within himself.

"I _didn't_ have to," Adam repeats.

"Adam, you _did_!You just didn't want to!"

He knows Sauli's right. But, even then, saying to himself over and over again that _he did what he had to do_ doesn't help as much as he thinks it should.

"Sauli," Adam says, his tone careful. "You understand, though, right? I didn't mean...I wouldn't have let him...Wouldn't have _ever_ let him..."

"I know. I wouldn't, either."

Adam pauses. "What?"

"I would've done the same for you. I would've _taken_ that bullet. But, yes, I understand."

Adam stares blankly at the ceiling. All he wants to do is stop _thinking_ , and he can't do that when Sauli's talking like that.

*

Everyone asks him if he had been afraid.

Adam can do nothing but sit and stare right into the interveiwer's eyes every single time the question comes up. He says he can't remember, which is an honest answer, even if it's not what the tabloids want to hear. He'd made a split decision. It was more like an instinct, though. An instinct to _protect_ , to _fight_ , even if it meant taking up the very violence he condemned, if only for a moment. His hand had seemed to move of it's own accord on that gun.

It was after the third barrage of comments and questions that Adam asked for it all to stop and focus on his new album, focus on the music, which was really what this was about. He'd faced this before, several times. He remembers all the questions in the past he had to answer countless times, questions about Gaga and Madonna and the AMAs and his orientation and his favorite brand of eyeliner.

But that was nothing. Looking back now, Adam realizes it hardly bothers him at all, not like the matters at hand today, and tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after...

*

Even more painful than interveiws are performances. He can still sing like before. That's not the problem. He just doesn't _smile_ like before; he doesn't have that light in his eyes, that stunning vitality.

The fans notice, and that's what hits Adam hard.

When Sauli figures out that's what's taking a toll on Adam more than anything, he tries to do something about it. He has to. He can't just sit by and watch Adam wither away from the inside out, has to do more than hold him when he cries and wait with open arms when he doesn't.

*

"Sing for me."

Adam looks up curiously.

"Please? No one's around, it's just you and me. Please, Adam, I wanna hear you."

"I can't," Adam whispers. "I just...I think I'm losing it."

"Your voice?"

"No. My inspiration."

Sauli's heart sinks. "Adam, Adam."

"It's like...Like you're all I've got. Like I've taken you for granted all this time until...Until that day. And when he pointed that gun, Sauli, I...I thought that was it, that it was over, and I..." Adam shivers. "I guess I _did_ do what I had to do, but what about everything else?"

Sauli practically hears Adam thinking, hears his thoughts screaming the same things over and over again. He closes the space between them, carefully placing a hand on Adam's knee.

"He came so close, so fucking _close_ to taking you from me, and that's what I think of every morning, every night, and it's not something I can just write off. I can't. I-"

"You're not gonna lose me," Sauli says, and he sounds so sure. "You're never gonna lose me."

Adam smiles, and though it starts out small, it widens, and the mere brightness of it rivals the L.A. sun itself.

"Sing now?" Sauli's eyes go big, pleading.

"I guess I can try..." Adam murmurs, then, "Yeah, yeah, I will."

From the moment he opens his mouth on the first note to the moment he's out of breath, Sauli is captivated. It's different than any other time Adam has sung to him, _for_ him. This is much more intimate, and Sauli knows that there's a truth behind it, a purpose, a desired effect.

Adam falls onto his stomach, panting just a little. He knows it was probably better to save all that for the next show, but he probably couldn't do that out on a stage like he could before without tonight. Now, he feels renewed, inspired, and that's all he's asked for through these weeks and weeks of his private Hell that the public overlooked among their titles and labels.

"You're never gonna lose me, either."

Sauli can't help but kiss him.


End file.
